For a man who records on rudimentary equipment in a small bedroom studio, F.M. Cornog certainly knows how to drape his albums in beauty.

The Summit-based singer-songwriter — better known as the auteur behind East River Pipe — has returned with “We Live in Rented Rooms,” his seventh collection of freshly minted AM gold. With each release, his bare-bones setup feels like less and less of a valid talking point. The gorgeous “I Don’t Care About Your Blue Wings,” for instance, could be a long-lost lite-radio favorite from the early ’80s. No matter how he cuts his songs, nobody ought to call Cornog lo-fi anymore.

The tag sticks because of Cornog’s personal story. Homeless for two years, he slept for a time in Hoboken Terminal. Yup, that ragged figure you avoided during your commute may just have been one of Jersey’s finest songwriters. Cornog has long since beaten his addictions, but his experiences on the streets have stayed with him, and are inscribed in his lyrics. “Backroom Deals,” which kicks off “We Live in Rented Rooms,” covers territory that will be familiar to longtime listeners: The world, we’re told, is a cold one for outsiders, and the narrator is playing a desperate game of catch-up. On the stark “Tommy Made a Movie,” a potentially creative person is stymied by his own addictions — and his insecurity. “When You Were Doing Cocaine,” which splits the difference between John Lennon and Air Supply, explores the consequences of a life led in total dissolution.

Cornog’s voice is the ideal conduit for these stories. No matter how dark things get, it still feels like the singer might be smiling. On “What Are You On?”, the full-length that preceded “Rented Rooms,” Cornog was angry: he took down pretentious literati, self-absorbed social climbers and those who felt they could dabble in drugs and still remain functional. “Rented Rooms” keeps the sketches but turns down some of the heat on the characters. The songwriter is sympathetic to the sad faces he passes on the highway; he’s even sympathetic to the addict whose wife he swipes.

It all climaxes with the majestic “The Flames Are Coming Back,” one of the finest songs in Cornog’s catalog. All the elements that distinguish his productions are here: programmed percussion, acoustic guitar, sweep synthesizers and a long, meditative outro spiced with sound effects. To all of this, he adds an irresistible chorus and verses that manage to be both resigned and terrified: “I’m living in the twilight every day/I know the deck is stacked.”

Cornog has labored in obscurity for most of his career, and refuses to present concerts. But many prominent musicians know his work, and it’s worth pointing out that “We Live in Rented Rooms” is out on Merge, the same label that put out “The Suburbs” by Arcade Fire.

There are no Grammys in Cornog’s future, but a far wider audience is, probably, eventually in the cards.

— Tris McCall

21
Adele (Columbia)

Two years before Esperanza Spalding crushed the hopes of Biebermaniacs at the Grammys, a young British pop-soul singer pulled off a similar upset, and over similar competition. Joe Jonas had the Best New Artist gramophone pinched from his back pocket by Adele, a traditionalist with a big, bluesy voice.

Now she’s back with “21” (her first album was called “19”; she likes to let us know how old she is), and the wisdom of the voters has been borne out.

Well, sort of. Adele’s sophomore effort is uneven, but the high points — scalding single “Rolling in the Deep,” the stomping “Rumor Has It,” the piano-driven gospel number “I’ll Be Waiting” — mark her as a singer of substantial promise. The middle of “21” gets bogged down with standard-issue power ballads, mixed metaphors (“set fire to the rain”?) and a weird lounge-jazz cover of the Cure’s “Love Song.”

She’s got time to work that out, and she’ll get every chance; also, if she ends up singing a Bond theme at some point, don’t be shocked. Her talent runs far deeper than Duffy’s, and unlike Amy Winehouse, she appears to be built to last.

We may be past Groundhog Day, but the bubbly sweetness of operetta exquisitely played by the Staatskapelle Dresden may give you the urge to open a bottle of champagne and relive its 2010 New Year’s Eve concert. In addition to the glistening, translucent sound and charm Thielemann culls from the orchestra, Fleming gives a bewitching turn in the role of Hanna Glawari in “The Merry Widow.” She’s especially compelling as she leans her lush, warm voice into the simple, gentle melody of “Vilja,” with incandescent tone where it crests to its floated top notes. As Danilo, Maltman occasionally seems to have the beginnings of a wobble, but approaches all with character and musicality. Soprano Carolina Ullrich and tenor Andrej Dunaev bring fresh voices to Valencienne and Camille. Fleming and Maltman both sing encores, and the orchestra pays tribute to New Year’s standard king Johann Strauss Jr., with “An der Elbe.”